The Care and Feeding of One's Evil Overlord
by Lys ap Adin
Summary: Flying sucks, but it's mostly worth it if there's someone on the other side waiting for you. Saeki x Yuuta, shameless fluff.


**Title:** The Care and Feeding of One's Evil Overlord**  
Pairing:** Saeki/Yuuta**  
Summary:** Flying sucks, but it's mostly worth it if there's someone on the other side waiting for you.**  
Notes:** Shameless, shameless fluff for mercuria, because the universe shouldn't ought to be annoying on one's birthday. 1765 words.

**

* * *

**

**The Care and Feeding of One's Evil Overlord**

It was a long flight to begin with, halfway around the world and hours in the air, and Yuuta was too cheap or too stubborn or both to shell out for the upgrades that would ease some of the misery of having to be in the air that long, even though he was in a professional place now that would let him afford the extravagance. Then, on top of that, the flight was _late_, and not just a little bit so: Koujirou had a series of increasingly irate text messages saved on his phone that chronicled the first, second, and then third hour that Yuuta's plane spent on the tarmac before it was finally cleared for lift-off. The last few were mostly keysmashes of inarticulate Yuupyon rage coupled with threats to eviscerate the asshole who was seated next to him using only the card describing what to do in the event of a plane crash.

Telling Yuuta that gutting someone with a piece of cardstock would take a lot of work didn't do much good; Yuuta assured him that it would be entirely worth it. Koujirou figured he was probably right, even after he'd run Yuuta's description of the guy through a filter to sieve out some of the worst hyperbolic excesses of the Yuupyon-rage. _The world probably would be better off,_ he texted Yuuta, _but try not to kill him if you can help it. I would miss you if they hauled your skinny ass to prison._

_They let prisoners have conjugal visits,_ Yuuta replied. It was probably bad of Koujirou to snicker, but he couldn't help it, not when he knew exactly which dour expression and dire tone Yuuta would have used to make that pronouncement.

But the plane finally got clearance to fly. Koujirou assumed that the lack of news reports describing how a plane had been forced to land in order to hand a blood-soaked tennis pro over to the authorities meant that Yuuta had found the self-restraint necessary to keep him from killing his seatmate. Not that Koujirou was keeping a wary eye on the news or anything just in case. He had faith in Yuupyon's self-control, really... but it had sounded like it was shaping up to be a particularly trying flight, and Yuuta wasn't a good flyer in the best of circumstances.

It looked like the flight must have tested every limit Yuuta had, too, when he finally came stumbling off the plane with his face drawn with exhaustion and his mouth pressed so tight that his lips were white. The first thing he did was grab a fistful of Koujirou's shirt and growl, "Get me the fuck out of here before I spontaneously develop the power to kill people with my _mind_."

Koujirou relieved him of his bag and slung an arm around his shoulders. "Can't let you do that, I guess. You'd be way too good at being a supervillain. C'mon, car's this way."

Yuuta let himself be shepherded along, practically swaying on his feet. "What do you _mean_, I'd be too good at being a supervillain?" Clearly he was in a foul enough mood that he was prepared to be irascible about anything.

Koujirou wondered what else must have happened to put him in such a foul temper, though it didn't take much—Yuuta never slept well on planes and he had dark enough circles under his eyes to suggest that he just hadn't slept.

Good thing he had plenty of practice in dealing with cranky Yuupyons. "It means that you're good at everything you decide to do." Koujirou squeezed Yuuta's shoulder. "If you decided to go all Dark Side on us, we'd all be doomed."

"Nn." Yuuta staggered along in silence for a few moments, clearly puzzling through that and trying to find an excuse to get pissy—pissier—over that statement, because if Koujirou was any judge, he was operating on nerves and instinct. But even Yuuta couldn't take a bald compliment and construe it badly, so he finally grunted. "Damn straight. Doomed. Everyone. Especially loud-mouthed assholes with big-shot entitlement complexes and motherfucking loud headphones. They're _really_ doomed."

Loud headphones, huh? Yeah, that would do it as far as keeping Yuupyon from sleeping went. "Can I be your loyal minion?" Koujirou steered them around a slow-moving family struggling with all their luggage and a stroller. "One of the useful ones, I mean, not the cannon fodder. Or the one you end up shooting for betraying you." Or the one he ended up shooting in a fit of pique, if Koujirou were honest about Yuuta's general temperament.

"Minion? Hmph." Yuuta slanted a look at him, one that foretold pure, grade A Fuji evil in the offing. "Don't be stupid. You won't be a minion. You'll be my most favored concubine." He nodded, mind clearly made up, while Koujirou sputtered. "Your job will be to lounge around in a gold lamé bikini, catering to my every whim."

"And this will be a change from every other weekend in my life how, exactly?" Koujirou inquired, striving for a deadpan delivery and nailing it based on the way Yuuta's lips twitched. "Wait a minute, what do you mean, most _favored_ concubine? That implies the presence of other concubines." He narrowed his eyes at Yuuta. "There something you need to tell me about, Yuupyon?"

Yuuta sniffed. "If I'm going to be an evil overlord, I need to have a harem." He was starting to lose some of the pinched, angry look, finally, though he still looked wrung out. "It's practically required. All the other evil overlords will laugh at me if I don't have one."

"Then they can just laugh." Koujirou gave him a stern look. "Like hell am I going to be your most favored concubine. I don't have the temperament to cope with harem politics. You, sir, are going to be a _monogamous_ evil overlord. You can be a trendsetter that way." He paused, considering it. "Also, I thought you were going to be a supervillain. That's not the same thing as an evil overlord."

"Same difference," Yuuta scoffed.

"I don't think it is," Koujirou argued, mostly for the sake of how Yuuta was beginning to perk up around the edges at the familiar banter. "Supervillains try to conquer the world or blow it up or whatever. But evil overlords—by their very definition—have already conquered something. Just what have _you_ conquered lately, Yuupyon?"

Yuuta didn't miss a beat. "Houston, Eastbourne, and Cincinnati," he said, promptly.

"You can't be an evil overlord of _tennis_," Koujirou protested. Yuuta disagreed with that, vehemently. The resulting wrangle lasted the rest of the distance to the car, evolving into a discussion of arch nemeses along the way. "Can you really claim that _Kirihara_ is your arch nemesis?" Koujirou asked while he was stowing Yuuta's bag. "I would have figured that Echizen would fit the description better."

"Echizen is _everyone's_ arch nemesis." Yuuta slouched against the passenger door until Koujirou unlocked it for him. "He's kind of a slut that way. I want an arch nemesis who's special."

Koujirou rolled his eyes as he walked around the car and Yuuta collapsed into his seat. "And you picked _Kirihara_?" he asked as he slid in behind the wheel and buckled up. "He's about as bad as Echizen is, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, well, Echizen doesn't take me seriously yet, and Kirihara does."

At least he'd stopped sounding bitter over it and had moved on to being merely cranky about it, Koujirou thought, cursing that stupid interview where Echizen had blown off Yuuta and most of the other up-and-coming tennis pros with a shrug and a _mada mada dane_ one more time. It wouldn't have been so bad if the interviewer hadn't specifically mentioned Yuuta by name... but there was no helping it now.

He reached over and set a hand on the back of Yuuta's neck, rubbing it. "He will."

"Damn right he will." Yuuta settled lower in his seat and yawned hard enough that Koujirou was afraid it would crack his jaw. "Oh, fuck, this was an awful trip. Did I mention that the asshole sitting next to me was an Echizen fan?"

Koujirou whistled as he put the car into gear and pulled out. "No, you didn't." No wonder Yuuta had been so on edge. "And you _didn't_ kill him? I'm impressed."

"No. Dunno how I managed it, either, because the fucker kept wanting to talk about him with me and would not shut up." Yuuta rubbed a hand over his face. "Fuck, that was the most miserable flight I've ever been on, and that includes the one with the five screaming kids."

Koujirou reached over and ruffled his hair. "You know you didn't have to come—"

"Oh, shut up." Yuuta glared at him. "Of course I did. It's your birthday, asshole." He stopped and frowned, thinking about something. "Did I wish you a happy birthday?"

Koujirou had to laugh. "No."

"Oh. Shit. Happy birthday."

"Thanks, Yuupyon." He rubbed Yuuta's neck, kneading it. "Glad you came home and didn't kill the jerk sitting next to you."

"You know I wasn't going to miss it." Yuuta leaned into his hand and sighed. "But you're gonna have to wait for the birthday sex until I get some sleep, unless you want me to fall asleep in the middle."

Koujirou snorted, feeling some of the muscles under his fingers starting to loosen up. "Kinky, but no thanks. I'll wait."

"Yeah, I figured." Yuuta sighed and scrunched down in his seat. After a couple of minutes, he mumbled, "I'm just going to close my eyes for a minute, 'kay?"

Koujirou stroked his hair, amused. "You go right ahead," he murmured. "Get a head start on that sleep."

Yuuta didn't actually answer, unless the way his breathing turned deeper and slower counted.

Koujirou chuckled and drove very carefully to keep from waking him up before they got home.

**end**

* * *

And now, mostly because I couldn't resist, a chaser:

**Omake**

Their parents' faces were studies in frozen horror and Shuusuke looked appalled as he proclaimed that he needed to bleach his brain. Their sisters were leaning on each other's shoulders, giggling breathlessly, and all Koujirou could do was laugh and laugh at the shit-eating grin on Yuupyon's face.

It was a damn good thing he had a few months till Yuuta's birthday to figure out how to top this, Koujirou decided, as he and Yuuta stumbled through an attempt to explain what was so damn funny about the gold speedo in the gift bag without traumatizing their families any more than they already had.

**end**

Comments are always lovely!


End file.
